Rayburn Abyss

A Siren Book
Main
ISBN: 978-0-571-27395-9
Verlag: Faber & Faber
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, 384 Seiten

The sea is calling . . . A year after the events that killed her sister and turned her into a siren, Vanessa is desperately trying to put her family back together and reclaim a 'normal' life. But no matter how many times she swims, or how much salt water she drinks, she can feel herself getting weaker and weaker. Meanwhile she's desperately trying to come to terms with her break-up with Simon. Her first love, who she drove away with her siren's wandering eye. Then her biological mother shows up at her summer house in Maine - claiming she is a Nenuphar, the most powerful of all sirens. She promises that she wants to help the daughter from whom she's been separated for far too long. But can Vanessa trust her? Now Vanessa must face the harshest . . .

Tricia Rayburn is the author of Ruby's Slippers and the Maggie Bean trilogy. Despite fearing all creatures of the deep, she's still drawn to the water and makes her home in a seaside town on eastern Long Island in America. You can visit her online at www.triciarayburn.com

Autoren/Hrsg.

Rayburn, Tricia

Leseproben

Chapter 1

It started an hour into the trip. The fluttering in my chest. The weakening of my legs. The tightening of my throat that made each breath feel like it was filled with broken glass rather than clear, fresh air. These feelings were nothing new. For nearly a year, they’d been the messages my body sent whenever it was slowing down, tiring out . . . drying up.

The difference this time was that I wasn’t thirsty. We’d visited enough rest stops along Interstate 95 to be sure of that.

I was scared.

‘Crisps?’

An economy-size bag of Walker’s appeared between the two front seats. Shook back and forth.

‘They’re your favourite,’ Mom said. ‘Salt and vinegar.’

‘Heavy on the salt,’ Dad added.

I watched him take a plastic shaker from his cup holder and tilt it over the top of the bag. As the white powder fell onto the crisps, I thought about how the mere idea of this road-trip snack should make my stomach turn. But it didn’t.

‘No, thanks,’ I said. ‘I’m not hungry.’

‘You haven’t eaten today,’ Mom said. ‘And you barely picked at your dinner last night.’

‘I’m saving my appetite. For Harbor Homefries.’

Mom glanced at Dad. His head lowered and lifted so slightly, you wouldn’t notice the nod if you didn’t expect it.

‘So,’ he said, leaving the bag on the console and replacing the shaker in the cup holder. ‘Several of my students were renting a house in Kennebunkport this summer. It’s supposed to be a pretty hopping place.’

‘Hopping?’ I said.

‘You know – happening. Grooving. Or, as one young wordsmith alleged, slamming.’

‘Slammin’,’ Mom said.

Dad looked at her. ‘How come it doesn’t sound nearly as ridiculous when you say it?’

‘Because I said it correctly.’ She tried to catch my eye in the rear-view mirror. ‘You leave off the g. Right, sweetie?’

I turned my head, faced the window. ‘I think so.’

‘Well,’ Dad said, ‘if our Dartmouth-bound daughter thinks it’s so, then so it is.’

I pressed my forehead to the glass, blinking away images of green ivy-covered walls.

‘In any case, the town gets fairly busy, but it’s by the water and is supposed to be beautiful. Maybe we should check it out. Like, today.’

‘That’s a great idea,’ Mom said. ‘The exit will be coming up soon.’

I sat up. ‘Don’t we have an appointment?’

‘We do,’ Mom said. ‘And it can be rescheduled.’

‘But you’ve been planning this trip for weeks. Why the sudden detour?’

‘Why not?’ Mom asked. ‘It never hurts to know all your options. Especially when it comes to real estate.’

‘But where we’re going is also by the water. It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.’ I tried to smile. ‘And after last summer it shouldn’t be too crowded.’

This final point was an attempt at keeping things light. For better or worse, my poor delivery broke through my parents’ happy façade.

‘We don’t have to go back.’ Mom said, squeezing the steering wheel.

‘We can go anywhere,’ Dad said. ‘Try someplace new.’

‘I know,’ I said. ‘You told me that six months ago and every week since then. I appreciate the offer, but it’s not necessary. I don’t want to try someplace new.’

Mom glanced over her shoulder. Her lips were set in a thin, straight line. Behind her sunglasses, I knew her brows were lowered, her eyes narrowed.

‘Vanessa, are you sure? I mean, really sure? I know you’ve visited a few times since . . . everything . . . but this is different.’ She paused. ‘It’s summer.’

Summer. The word hung above us, heavy, expanding. I looked at the empty seat to my left, then reached forward and grabbed a handful of crisps.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I’m really sure.’

Despite my countless assurances over the past few months, I understood their concern. We’d made the same trip each June for as long as I could remember, and this was the first time we were doing so without my older sister Justine. Not only that, due to our realtor’s schedule – and a supposedly amazing property that’d recently hit the market – we’d had to leave today. Which just happened to be the day after my graduation from Hawthorne Prep . . . and the one-year anniversary of Justine’s death.

As my body continued to remind me, this was scary. But one thing would be downright terrifying.

Not returning to Winter Harbor at all.

I washed down several handfuls of crisps with two bottles of salt water. For fifteen minutes, I half-listened and nodded along as my parents debated the benefits of all-weather cladding.

When we passed the Kennebunkport exit, I waited another five minutes for good measure, then settled back and checked my cell phone for the hundredth time since waking up.

V! SO EXCITED TO SEE YOU. WHO KNEW 20 HOURS COULD FEEL LIKE 20 YEARS?? AT RESTAURANT ALL DAY. STOP BY WHEN YOU CAN. XO, P

Paige. My best friend, recent housemate – and one of the main reasons why vacationing anywhere else this summer was impossible. I smiled as I texted her back.

CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU, TOO. STILL A FEW HOURS AWAY. WILL WRITE AGAIN WHEN CLOSER. DON’T WORK TOO HARD! L, V

I sent the note and scrolled through older messages, hoping, like I always did, that I’d missed one. That maybe there’d been a glitch in my service and I hadn’t been notified of every incoming text.

There wasn’t. A quick call to my voicemail proved that it, too, was working fine.

I swapped my phone for the Dartmouth course descriptions I’d printed from the school website and curled up on the back seat. I already had a pretty good idea of what I wanted to take in the autumn, but my parents didn’t know that. And more than anything else, looking like I was thinking about my future stopped them from bringing up the past. In fact, the course descriptions were such an effective shield, no one asked how I was or what I needed for the rest of the trip.

Of course, by the time we pulled off the highway, they didn’t have to. Not out loud anyway. Mom looked in the rear-view mirror more than she did at the road, and Dad gave a bag of pretzels an extra coating of salt before propping it between the two front seats.

‘I’m fine,’ I said, as my pulse pounded in my ears. ‘Promise.’

This seemed to appease them until we neared the sailing-boat-shaped WELCOME TO WINTER HARBOR sign. That’s when Mom jerked the steering wheel to the left – and we took an unexpected detour bypassing Main Street and all the local businesses. I started to protest but then hesitated. Did I really want to sit in traffic and inch past Eddie’s Ice Cream? Which had always been our first stop – and the official start of another wonderful family vacation?

Probably not. I let my parents have that one.

I took another water bottle from my backpack and focused on drinking. A few minutes later, the detour led to the same intersection we would’ve reached had we stayed on Main Street. Turning right would take us towards the mountains and down a long, winding road I knew so well I could drive it at night without headlights. I listened for the clicking signal, waited for the gentle pull west. Neither happened. We went straight instead.

As we drove, the straight, flat road began to incline. The houses grew further apart, the trees closer together. I’d never been in this part of Winter Harbor; before I could decide whether that was a good or bad thing, the road ended. The car stopped. We all stared straight ahead.

‘Is this a joke?’ I asked, peering between the front seats.

‘I don’t think so,’ Mom said, after a pause. She handed the directions to Dad, rolled down her window, and pressed the button on a silver box next to her door. The tall gates, which featured iron mermaids with ornate tails rather than simple bars, swung open.

‘Let’s give it a chance,’ Dad said, then busied himself with folding and refolding the directions.

I wanted to take the stack of course descriptions, hold them in front of my face, block out everything I didn’t want to see. But I couldn’t. My eyes were glued to the faceless heads, the flowing hair, the intricate fins. I told myself that these mermaids were decorative art, nothing more, but I still searched for something, anything familiar about them. As the gates closed behind us and we continued down the driveway, I even turned in my seat to watch them grow smaller. Or perhaps more accurately, to make sure they grew smaller.

The steep driveway curled through dense forest. About half a mile in, Mom, growing nervous, impatient, or a combination of both, hit the gas. The SUV shot up a small hill – and towards the edge of a cliff.

Dad and I reached for the grab handles above our doors. Mom gasped and slammed on the brake. The car skidded a few feet before rocking to a stop.

‘A fence,’ Mom said, exhaling. ‘We’ll just get a good, strong fence.’

She opened her door and hopped out. Dad slowly leaned forward, started to turn. Sensing a fresh wave of concern approaching, I opened my door and stepped down before it reached me.

‘Jacqueline! So glad you could make it at such short notice.’

A woman strode down a wide stone path to our left. She wore white linen trousers, a white caftan, and leather sandals. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail so tight the corners of her blue eyes lifted. I must’ve been even...